A werewolf. Right. Death dreams and curses were bad enough. Considering the possibility that werewolves might exist? If she let herself believe in something like that, she might as well admit herself to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation. Lazlo had always been a bit more reckless than the other boys, but a streak of wildness didn’t mean he was a…freak.
The instant she thought the word, she chided herself. After all, many people here in town had called her the same or worse, just because of a little psychic ability. She’d learned the hard way never to judge others.
Sniffing, she headed toward the shower, wondering what quirk of her mind had made her think of Lazlo Brennan. The last time she’d seen him, they’d been eighteen and high-school sweethearts, in love. Then he’d left her and Teslinko for the greener shores of America without even saying goodbye. He’d broken her heart.
As she was eating breakfast, her phone rang. It was the Teslinko police chief, asking for her help. A child had gone missing; they suspected the four-year-old girl had been kidnapped. And they needed Erika’s help to find her.
Erika’s stomach clenched. Of course. Her dreams never lied. Though this time, more than any other, she’d have given anything to be wrong.
“Let’s go,” Lazlo said to his partner, his adrenaline already shifting into high gear as he headed for the door of the squad room. The heartbreaking—and crucial—task of talking to the parents of a victim was one peace officers dreaded. Most often, things were exactly as they seemed, with the parents frantic for the return of their child.
Sometimes though, it was worse. Lazlo had worked one case where the father had turned out to be the monster who’d tortured and killed his son. Lazlo never wanted to work another like that.
Catching up to him, Rok pointed out his unmarked department vehicle. “You should know that they’ve called in Erika Cenov to help.”
Climbing into the car and starting to drive, Lazlo glanced at Rok in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I wasn’t making that stuff up. Your old girlfriend is a psychic. The captain said she already had a dream. Maybe she can find little Katya Holson.”
Lazlo let the remark about Erika being a psychic slide and concentrated on the child. Katya Holson. Age four.
Numerous members of the Teslinko police department were already at work at the Holsons’. Yellow crime scene tape blocked off one side of the square clapboard house.
A uniformed officer met them as they got out of the car. “Mr. and Mrs. Holson are waiting inside. Erika Cenov is with them.”
Rok shot Lazlo an I told you so look and strode ahead. Lazlo followed, a bit more slowly.
Erika. He’d never been able to exorcise her from his heart.
He’d loved her once, with a passion so all-consuming it had terrified an eighteen-year-old still trying to come to terms with the fact that his girlfriend—and the woman his wolf had once foolishly considered his mate—was human rather than Pack.
Something about Erika’s aura was different enough that when they’d first started dating he’d harbored the hope she might be a Halfling. But he’d soon learned her difference had nothing to do with any shifter blood—in hindsight, perhaps it had to do with her unexplored psychic potential, assuming he believed in that. Whatever the reason for her aura, Erika was human.
When he’d realized that fact, Lazlo had kept it a secret, knowing his family’s prejudice against non-shifters would mean an end to his relationship with Erika if they found out she was human. But his father had ultimately discovered the truth. He’d gone ballistic.
While numerous shifters married humans, his father had forbidden it. Right before Lazlo’s graduation, the head of the Brennan household had extracted a promise from his only son. Unwilling to disappoint the man who’d raised him as a single parent, Lazlo had given his word. To uphold the honor of his family, he would only marry a full-blood shifter. He would not be the one to dilute their long, unbroken line.
Which meant, of course, that he could not have Erika. Unable to say goodbye to her, he’d simply left, going as far away as he could.
He’d often wondered what had become of her, but he hadn’t planned on running into her in the middle of a crime scene. Or that she would be the police department’s official…psychic.
Assuming he believed in such things—and as a shape-shifter he knew anything was possible—would Erika’s new abilities mean she’d be able to see into the deepest part of him and know the secret he’d kept from her all these years? Would she be horrified? He told himself it didn’t matter; his vow had ensured there could never be anything between them.
No matter what his wolf wanted.
Realizing he’d see Erika again put every one of Lazlo’s nerves on edge. His wolf, slumbering until now, was alert, as well. In the years since he’d left, no other woman had evoked even the slightest interest from his lupine nature. Since wolves only mated once, this in itself made him uneasy. Would it still be the same? Would the part of him that was wolf still try to claim her as mate? And if so, would he have the strength to resist that part of himself…or her?
A child was missing, Lazlo reminded himself fiercely. He had to put any personal feelings aside and do his damndest to ensure that she was returned home unharmed. If Erika really could help, so be it. If not, she’d better keep out of the way.
The parents of the missing child were seated side by side on a faded, well-used blue couch. Mrs. Holson had been weeping, her nose bright red and her eyes swollen. She gripped her husband’s hand so tightly her knuckles gleamed white. They appeared to be genuinely terrified.
He spared a brief glance at the slender woman seated in the chair opposite them, his analytical mind processing and storing details. As his eyes locked on her, he found he couldn’t move his gaze away. Erika Cenov looked remarkably similar to the eighteen-year-old girl he remembered, though she’d blossomed into a lovely woman. She wore her hair—still blond, still straight—in a casual ponytail.
She raised her eyes to meet his, and he had to throttle the dizzying charge that jolted through him. The part of him that was wolf wanted to howl; the human man knew better.
Dragging his eyes away from Erika, he focused on the distraught couple. They stared at Erika with the kind of wild hope reserved for miracle workers.
Rok took the lead asking questions. Lazlo simply watched and listened and tried to avoid glancing at Erika. He could feel her gaze every time it touched on him, light as a feather.
Even worse, his wolf had begun to battle him, wanting to take over, wanting her with an intensity both familiar and appalling. At eighteen, he’d found this craving for her—and what it meant—terrifying. Now it was even more unsettling.
But a Brennan never went back on his word. Even though his father had been killed a few years ago in a cabin fire while on a hunting trip with friends, his death did not release Lazlo from his vow.
Erika and Lazlo could never be together. This harsh truth had been the reason he’d left Teslinko, fleeing something so strong it had threatened to overwhelm him. He’d known he didn’t have the strength to resist her then. Now, with ten years between them, he’d believed he’d be stronger, his feelings for her weaker. Obviously, he’d been wrong.
For the first time since returning home, Lazlo wished he’d stayed in Leaning Tree, New York. The town nestled within the rolling hills of the Catskills had reminded him of Teslinko, minus the presence of the sea. He’d adapted well there, though the homesickness had never entirely gone away. Nor had